Digressions on Shepard
by Scutter
Summary: The second in my Digressions series, in which each character is assigned an opening line, and I see how many ficlets I can write starting with that line. Shepard's line is 'Shepard was lost'.
1. Building

**Digressions on Shepard**

This is the second in my series of digressions. Each ficlet begins with the same sentence. This one is 'Shepard was lost.' Thanks to Ozey, over at Archive of our Own for suggesting the opening line.

**Building**

Shepard was lost. The instructions simply made no sense. The fact that a varren had run off with two of the wooden struts for the cabinet he was building wasn't helping. And Grunt's overzealous enthusiasm for hammering in the nails was giving the cabinet a dented, lopsided feel… but on the other hand, that meant it would fit right in with the rest of the décor on Tuchunka.

He looked at the instructions again, then back at the board that formed the top of the cabinet. There was supposed to be a notch in the wood that simply wasn't there. And if the notch wasn't there, then the supporting walls wouldn't hold the shelves steady.

"Problem, Shepard?" Grunt asked. He'd already deferred to Shepard's superior judgment in building the thing – krogan were much better at demolishing things than building them, he'd said with pride.

"Just working out what comes next," Shepard hedged, not willing to admit defeat yet.

Just then, the varren returned, dropping a strut at his feet, now sporting jagged teeth marks and moist with drool. "Thank you, Scratch," Shepard said politely, and the varren wagged its tail.

"Still working on that thing?" Kaidan asked amiably, wandering past with Garrus, a pyjack carcass hanging from each of their hands. "How hard can it be?"

Shepard flung the instructions at him in frustration. "If it's so damn easy, you tell me how it fits together."

Kaidan peered at the instructions, stared at the half-build cabinet, and then looked back at the instructions. Then he turned the paper upside down, and handed it back to Shepard. "Try it that way," he said with a smirk.


	2. The Grave

**The Grave**

Shepard was lost. Lost and wounded. And how could he not be? He stared down at the headstone, tears falling freely, though a soldier shouldn't cry. But at only eighteen years old, he was barely a soldier. He'd enlisted only six months ago, the toughest, most challenging, most rewarding six months of his life.

He'd been sure his life was going to change now. Military training on Arcturus, then a posting on a ship, and heading for the stars. Action. Adventure. Excitement. And the regularity of military life to keep him in line, when his impulsive tendencies got the better of him. He'd been so optimistic about it all…

And then he'd gotten the call. Captain Anderson had spoken to him personally, his expression grim even before the first words came out. Father Peterson had been killed, shot by a gang member as he was locking up the church one night. Peterson was a chaplain to the Alliance, stationed on Earth. He was the one who had spent six months getting to know Shepard, patient and compassionate as he stole food from the church supper pantry and money from the offering plate. He was the one who had talked him into joining the Alliance, convinced him that he had more potential than running with a gang, more to offer than a few credits to his leaders. And Shepard had finally believed him, had taken a leap of faith and gone to enlist.

He'd looked forward to coming back at the end of the year, telling Peterson all about it, how he'd aced his exams, how he'd breezed through weapons training.

But now, he would never be able to tell him anything. Ever again.

Anderson had brought him to earth, too late for the funeral, but allowing him to say his final goodbyes in peace, the graveyard empty while Anderson waited at his sky car, a short walk away. And Shepard had told the cold slab of stone everything, about the dorms where Zack snored like a freight train, about the food that tasted like cardboard, about the thrill of hitting his first bull's-eye on the firing range. And the headstone had said nothing back. Cold, silent, grey. It was a fool's quest, trying to talk to the past.

Shepard had been alone his whole life. But he'd never felt it until today.


	3. Dinner

**Dinner**

Shepard was lost. He looked at the list of ingredients Kaidan had given him, it being the Major's turn to cook dinner tonight, and then stared at the shelves of the specialty food store in dismay. It would help if they at least arranged the items in alphabetical order. What the hell was agar-agar? He knew that agar was used to grow bacteria in labs. It couldn't be the same stuff, could it?

And what about boletes? They sounded like miniature balls of something, but he couldn't see anything like that on the shelves. He'd found the elvers, and refused to buy them on principle – who the hell ate _that_? He'd bought the gurnard at a local fish shop, but the idiazabal was causing a problem. No one stocked it, not even the gourmet cheese factory.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Why couldn't Kaidan cook something simple? Then again, Shepard had given him a hard time the last time he'd opted for the 'Canadian Delicacies' as he now called them. He'd found a recipe for a stew in which the main ingredients were beef, bacon and beer – yes, all three in one dish – along with a few handfuls of herbs, mushrooms, an onion and some dumplings which had been unexpectedly good. But Shepard had laughed at his apparent inability to move past the 'foods of Canada', so now, it seemed, Kaidan was going out of his way to try and impress him.

Shepard glanced down at the rest of the list and looked around the shop in despair… and then, out through the window, a flashing neon sign caught his attention. Sushi. Kaidan liked sushi.

Moments later, Shepard had abandoned his treasure hunt and left the shop. Take out was an excellent choice for dinner. And if Kaidan didn't agree, then next time, he could do the shopping himself.


	4. The Party

**The Party**

Shepard was lost. What the hell were a volus, a vorcha and a batarian doing in his apartment?

"Grunt?" he asked cautiously. "Why did you let the volus in?"

"His name is Sheppy," Grunt replied, slurring his words badly. "He said he was your half-brother."

"I don't have a half-brother named Sheppy," Shepard said, fighting for patience. "And even if I did, didn't it occur to you that I couldn't be related to a volus?"

"No," Grunt said flatly. "And besides, his friend was selling cookies. I like cookies." The batarian in question helpfully held out a box of cookies, blue cardboard with swirling comets on it.

"And the vorcha?" Shepard dared to ask, watching the vorcha pretend to be trapped inside an invisible box.

"He's a mime," Grunt said, as if that explained everything.

"Right…" Shepard said, wondering how to get the errant guests out of his apartment. "Listen, maybe Garrus should take over door duty for a little while." Even if he and Zaeed ended up blowing up the would-be guests, that was an improvement on a mime in his apartment… right?

But before he could send Grunt elsewhere, the krogan stepped forward and opened the door again, revealing a brunette woman, a krogan and a salarian. The woman took one look at Shepard and latched onto his arm, almost frothing at the mouth with excitement.

"Commander Shepard! Oh my god, it's really you! Can I have an autograph? Can I take a picture of us together? I've read every article about you. I'm so excited to finally meet you!"

"Grunt!" Shepard complained loudly, but unfortunately, the krogan chose that moment to fulfill his earlier promise to be sick on the floor.

"Eww…" the woman attached to Shepard's arm said, and thankfully she let go, backing away in disgust.

But Grunt was not deterred. "Hey, you brought pie!" he said to the krogan who had just arrived, and grabbed the newcomer by the arm, dragging him off towards the kitchen. "Wrex! Come here! We've got pie!"

Shepard looked up at the salarian with trepidation. "Why are you wearing a false moustache?"

The salarian looked indignant. "False? Why do you think it's false? Why would I be wearing a false moustache?" He sidestepped Shepard and headed towards the bar.

Damn it, he needed to find Garrus and Zaeed, and get them to kick out some of these damned gate crashers. He spotted them both on the balcony and headed that way… but he'd taken only a few steps when the human woman latched onto his arm again.

"This is such a great place. I love the artwork. And the fireplace. And I love you! You're such a hero! You've done so much for humanity, and for the galaxy, and meeting you face to face is such an honor-"

"Shepard?" Shepard turned around, relieved and embarrassed to find Kaidan standing behind him. "Why is a woman I've never seen before stroking your ass?"

"Um… Grunt let her in. Apparently she's a big fan," Shepard tried to explain, wishing she would keep her hands to herself.

"And I'd like to be his girlfriend," the woman babbled, oblivious to Kaidan's indignant disbelief. He gave Shepard a sharp look that said "please explain?" and Shepard returned one of complete and utter bewilderment.

"I see," Kaidan said, then gave the woman a polite smile.

And then he grabbed her by the hair, then spun her around and had her in an arm lock in half a second.

"Here's a little tip," he said darkly, as he escorted her to the door. "He's already spoken for."


	5. Worry

**Worry**

This is a continuation of chapter 3 of Digressions on Tali, i.e. what happens when Shepard and Kaidan get back to the Normandy. I'd recommend reading that part first, otherwise this won't make much sense.

* * *

Shepard was lost. Okay, so he shouldn't have let Aria kiss him. But he had no idea why Kaidan was reacting as badly as he was. He'd explained the circumstances, the fact that he was a passive recipient to the kiss, rather than a willing participant, and they both knew and understood Aria's rather unpredictable nature. But Kaidan was still fuming. And once they'd gotten back to the ship, waiting an inordinate amount of time for the airlock to let them in (he was going to have to get that damned thing serviced), they'd headed straight up to his cabin where, he hoped, they could get this sorted out.

"Kaidan, I'm sorry," he apologised again. "I would never cheat on you. You know that! This was a stupid misunderstanding-"

"How dare you," Kaidan rounded on him, teeth gritted, eyes flashing angrily. "How fucking dare you. We're supposed to be partners. I had this bizarre, misguided notion that you actually gave a shit about me-"

"I _do_ care about you! I love you!"

"Then why the hell did you just walk away, hitch a ride to Omega without one damned word about where you were going?"

Oh. So this wasn't about Aria after all.

"We were running a stealth operation, launching a guerilla attack on Omega. I couldn't risk any security leaks or the whole operation would have been compromised-"

"I understand why you couldn't tell the whole crew. But you didn't tell _me_. God, Shepard… what if you'd died? No one knew where you were. You could have been killed, and I doubt Aria would have been polite enough to send your body back to the Citadel for us. And what if the operation had failed? If she'd been killed, then no one in the entire galaxy would have known where you were. You've already died once, and that was hard enough, but I pulled myself together and moved on. It was hard, and it took a _really _long time, but I moved on, because I had closure. But not knowing? How long would you have expected me to wait? Ten years? Twenty? Was I supposed to just sit around for the rest of my life, wondering if you were alive or dead, not able to let go because at any moment, you might just walk back into my life like nothing had happened? It killed me, last time I lost you, Shepard, and to risk putting me through that again, through _worse_ than that, because we'd have had no way to find you, to find out what had happened, was so unbelievably stupid! Didn't any of that even occur to you, while you were running off, chasing Aria's blue ass all over her own private war?"

Shepard just stared at him, feeling light-headed and nauseous. He was right. Everything he had said was completely true, and no, it hadn't occurred to Shepard. Because he'd never had any doubts that he and Aria were going to win, but in hindsight, Kaidan was absolutely right. If he'd died, Kaidan would most likely never have found out how, or where, or why.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, remorse hitting him hard. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"God, Shepard… I love you," Kaidan said, stepping forward and pulling him close, pressing their foreheads together. "And I know you love me, but sooner or later, you're going to have to learn to _trust_ me."

Shepard longed to protest that he _did_ trust Kaidan… but his recent actions proved just the opposite. "I'm sorry," he said again, wrapping his arms around Kaidan's shoulders, cupping the back of his neck. "It won't happen again. I promise."

Kaidan took a deep breath to steady himself, then nodded. "I've fucking missed you, these last few days," he said, pressing Shepard backwards towards the bed. "And I think it would be fair to say you owe me a favor or two for making me worry like that." He stripped off his shirt, then tugged Shepard's off over his head.

"Fair enough," Shepard agreed, a teasing grin on his face. "So what sort of favor should we start with?"

"I think one that involves your mouth," Kaidan said, pushing him back onto the bed, then reaching for his own belt buckle. "And I'll let you guess the other half of the equation." He undid the button and zip, and let his pants drop to the floor.


End file.
